


the meaning of a lotus

by solohux



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crush at First Sight, First Meetings, Florist Hux, M/M, Tattoo Artist Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28884741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solohux/pseuds/solohux
Summary: Armitage has never met the man who owns the gothic tattoo parlour that trades next to his perfect little flower shop. He imagines a scary-looking, overweight man with a bald head and terrible, tasteless tattoos. That is, until a handsome, heavily tattooed man comes in on a Thursday evening and introduces himself as Kylo Ren.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 24
Kudos: 193





	the meaning of a lotus

**Author's Note:**

> This AU has grabbed my heart and my mind and it won't let go. ❤️
> 
> Un'beta'd and not proof read because my eyes are tired and my essential-working arse has an early shift tomorrow.
> 
> Enjoy! ❤️

It’s almost closing time at Arkanis Arrangements. It’s been a busy day today—the eve of Valentine’s Day—but Armitage is holding off on tidying away the display stands from outside of his little flower shop in the hopes of making a few last minute sales to those last-minute lovers who are rushing home from work and spot his beautiful arrangements and hurry to buy one for their significant other who is, no doubt, waiting for them with an equally lovely gift upon their arrival.

As a businessman, Armitage likes the commercialism of Valentine’s Day, the _lengths_ that partners are expected to go to now as well as the expense; it means that his little floristry business that he’s owned since he was twenty-three can thrive and grow. As a loverless man, he detests it.

He stands in one of the front windows, adding more red ribbon to a large white rose bouquet, curling it with a pair of scissors before popping it into place and sprinkling some water across the plump petals to make them sparkle in the warm white light of the small lanterns that hang in the window’s display, illuminating everything in the perfectly sophisticated way that Armitage likes.

Smiling, Armitage fixes his ascot and pulls down his black waistcoat, folding down the sleeves of his white shirt from where they were resting at the elbows and admires his view of his shop. He’s done well for a university dropout—though not in his father’s book.

But Armitage’s reminiscing is interrupted by the horrid flash of the neon sign of the tattoo parlour that trades right next door to his flower shop. The lights have been faulty for weeks now, flickering _annoyingly_ and ruining the refined look of Arkanis Arrangement’s green and gold exterior with its red blinking.

Armitage has never met the man who owns Ren’s Tattoo Studio but he has always imagined a scary-looking, overweight man with a bald head and terrible tattoos of half-naked women. Even when the empty lot was bought and renovated over two years ago, Armitage only ever saw builders and workers coming and going, no sign of any owners, which was fine by him; he can’t imagine that he’d be able to be friends with someone who owned a tattoo shop. They’d be too different, too opposite to even be acquaintances.

Armitage potters around the small store, brushing up and tidying his ribbon drawer, watching the clock and wondering whether he should close, but just as he prepares to bring in all of his displays for the night, the bell on the door rings to indicate the arrival of a new customer.

“Good evening,” Armitage greets, standing behind the counter and putting the last of his ribbons away before looking up to see his customer. “How can I…”

A heavily-tattooed man is gazing around the floral displays on the shelves, his dark hair moving like a flowing waterfall as he looks up and down, taking in all of the colours and shapes of Armitage’s handmade arrangements. Despite it still being a winter’s evening in London, the man is dressed in a short-sleeved black t-shirt with a heavy metal band motif on the front and black leather trousers that are decorated with silver chains, one that match the buckles on his boots. His arms and hands are covered in tattoos—all of varying colour and size—but Armitage is focussing more on his devilishly handsome face than on the tattoos.

“…Help.” Armitage finishes his sentence but his mouth stays open for a moment longer, in awe of the man’s charming looks and rugged outfit.

“Do you make all of these bouquets yourself?” _American._ The man keeps his fascinated gaze on the flowers, analysing them all, it would seem. His low-timbre voice matches his appearance perfectly, complimenting each other like daffodils and hyacinths would in a spring-bloom bouquet.

“I do,” Armitage says proudly. “I’m the owner.”

“Then I guess it’s about time that we met,” the man says, finally turning his attention from the flowers on sale and to the blushing florist behind the counter. “I’m Kylo. I own next door.”

Armitage blinks, “The tattoo parlour?”

“Yeah. I’m the _Ren_ in the shop’s name,” Kylo explains, offering his hand for Armitage to shake. “And the best in the game.”

Armitage wants to roll his eyes at Kylo’s enthusiasm at his own skills but finds it annoyingly charming like the rest of him. He shakes his hand and smiles courteously at his neighbour, taking in every inch of his appearance and chastising himself for having such an ugly stereotype in his mind in regard to the parlour’s owner.

“Armitage Hux. Florist extraordinaire.”

A flicker of a smile appears on Kylo’s lips as soon as Armitage introduces himself which only sends a pang of familiar embrassment through Armitage’s stomach; his unusual first name always gets a giggle from those who don’t know him.

“So, Kylo,” Armitage sighs. “What can I help you with? A bouquet for a partner?”

Kylo laughs, “No. No way. I actually have a favour to ask you.”

Armitage already wants to say _yes_ without knowing what it is but hides his enthusiasm behind his usual stoic expression, “We’ve just met and you’re asking for a favour? Charming. But go ahead.”

“So, more and more people are asking for tattoos of flowers. Roses, lilies peonies,” Kylo begins, pacing across the small length of the shop floor. “And my guy who _usually_ specialises in plants and flowers has had to fly back to New York to see his sick mother. And I’m out of practice drawing them. I’d _owe you_ big time if you could let me stay here sometimes so I can sketch some of your flowers.”

Spending time with this man _does_ seem like something that Armitage wants to do, he thinks to himself, though he’s been alone for so long that he wonders if he even remembers how to _talk_ to people and not just plants. He has some lovely conversations with all of his cacti at home but with _people,_ Armitage would rather they stayed silent. Still, he finds himself nodding to Kylo with almost no reasoning.

“I think that sounds agreeable,” Armitage says. “But what’s in it for me?”

“Do you only strike deals if you benefit from it?”

Armitage shrugs, “I’m a businessman, Ren.”

“Fine. Uh, I’ll bring you a coffee every time.”

“A double-shot cappuccino with soy milk and extra cinnamon powder.”

Kylo chuckles, thrusting out his hand again, “Deal.”

Armitage takes it, shaking it and agreeing, “I close at 6:00. Come then and you can stay until 7:00. No later. I have a cat, you see. I have to get home to feed her.”

“Cute,” Kylo says but his smirk turns sincere. “Thanks, Hux. You’re helping me out a lot here. I’m losing a lot of customers to the new studio across town.”

“Well, we’ll have to annihilate them, won’t we? Can’t be having our street being the second best in town. Only first will do.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Armitage smiles, looking down to their joined hands when Kylo squeezes, noticing the _only_ tattoo that the man has on the back of his right hand.

“A lotus flower,” Armitage points politely at the back of Kylo’s hand when they part, where a black inked tattoo of the familiar flower sits in the middle. “A very meaningful flower. Rebirth, regeneration. It grows in mud but is one of the most beautiful blossoms in existence.”

“You’re not _just_ a flower salesman, then,” Kylo raises an eyebrow, heading out. “You’ve got knowledge beyond their pretty colours and nice smells.”

“Careful, Ren,” Armitage follows Kylo to the door, turning around the ‘closed’ sign on the door as he steps out. “Or else I might just decide to keep you away from my shop.”

Kylo narrows his eyes, shoving his hands into his pockets, “Try and stop me. See you tomorrow, Hux. _With_ your coffee.”

Armitage watches him take a few steps before he’s at the step of his studio, entering without looking back at his neighbour. Leaning against the doorframe of his own shop, Armitage loosens his ascot.

Love is blossoming, and it’s permanent ink.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed! I definitely plan on adding more to this AU! Perhaps some drama?
> 
> Find me on tumblr at [solohux](http://solohux.tumblr.com/) ❤️


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